


"Captain..."

by EdwardNotSoLittle



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Francis' second sight, Gen, terror bingo 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21873034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdwardNotSoLittle/pseuds/EdwardNotSoLittle
Summary: The second sight had never felt more of a curse than it did now.Terror Bingo:Body Swap
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23
Collections: The Terror Bingo (2019)





	"Captain..."

After several hours spent trying to break out of the shackles that Mr Armitage had fastened around his wrists he’d finally given up, speaking quietly with Mr Diggle and Dr Goodsir before he finally tried to get some rest.

\-------

When he opened his eyes he was laying down amongst layers of blankets, there was a grinding noise outside.

A hand came into his line of view and he frowned, he wasn’t moving… was he?

The hand in question answered that quickly.  
It was much too small to be his own, the fingers long and so very familiar, he’d recognize them anywhere. After all, they had been in his view countless of times for almost a decade of service.

They belonged to his steward, Thomas Jopson.

It wasn’t a dream, it was that accursed second sight.

Another clammy, trembling hand came into view as lean arms clad in a white striped shirt moved forward to pull themselves from a nest of blankets.

The man was moving toward the tent opening, crawling and he could hear ragged breathing coming from his chest.

Looking around he saw two tents both with three tins stacked like an offered cairn of mercy stacked outside, there was one beside theirs.

Shale scraping and men grunting sounded and attention was gained.

He could see antethe men hauling, Lieutenant Le Vescante in the lead while Edward was sulking along behind one of the boats, his footsteps heavy and he looked miserable….

And then….

“W-Wait…”

It was here that he realized that he could hear surroundings… and voices…. In this sudden surge with his second sight.

That was new…

Right now he wished more than anything he could make it go away, as the man dragged himself from the tent, one arm thrown forward at a time as Jopson tried to follow.

“C-Cap… Captain..!” his voice came so frail and so full of hurt and fear.

**’Surely… He knows why I am not there? He doesn't think...?’**

He could see the men as they continued, they didn't look back but Edward was visibly struggling.

Oh God… this was horrible…

Thomas Jopson, the sweet bright and wonderful lad who had been practically a son to him, the closest thing to a son he supposed.

“Captain… C-Captain! S-Sir, please w-wait… wait...”

Jopson was trying desperately to follow clutching at handfuls of shale with every inch he made forward, bloodying his trembling hands.

His breath hitched and it made his chest to let out a loud sickening rattle, his breathing was labored...

“D-Don't leave me…”

Francis wanted to wake up, wanted to snap back to his own reality, his own set of eyes, this was painful to watch and made even more horrifying with the new ability to hear in his sight.

The men kept getting farther and farther and Jopson finally stopped, whether he was too weak to pursue or crippled with despair he didn't know.

Vision became blurred and hot and Crozier knew it was the tears that must be filling Jopson's eyes.

**‘Oh Thomas…’**

He could hear the lad's shuddering intake of breath, and the shaky exhale that was accompanied by a small noise that Francis easily recognized as a sob.

The gaze was cast down to the shale below him clear droplets fell onto the rocks and more of those overwhelming despairing sobs reached his ears.

“Captain… w-why? Y-You said you wouldn't leave me…” his words came broken by barely audible, hysterical sobs filled with such hurt and fear and sorrow… betrayal.

**’I wouldn't… oh by the Gods I wouldn't, son. Certainly not you…’**

“C-Come back… please… I-I want to live…”

Vision was beginning to spin as Jopson looked back up towards the men now halfway up a hill across an endless sea of shale.

He began to try to move again, inching forward as he cried.

“C-Captain… Cap...tain… Sir, w-wait…. Cap’n… D-Don't... don't l-leave me here alone...”

**’Oh lad… I'm sorry... I am so sorry…’**

Black spots and bleary fog began to overtake his vision, finally the lad stopped moving and simply covered his face with his bloodied hands, sobbing his anguish as he lay upon his belly on the rough sharp shale, sobbing a mantra of ‘Captain’, ‘help me’, ‘come back’, ‘you promised’, and ‘don't leave’.

Eventually his voice became softer and softer, his vision darker and darker, until there was nothing.

\---

Crozier startled back to his reality, the shackles rattled loudly as he jerked in alarm.

He found himself still secured to the hitch and Mr Diggle was sitting up in his bed roll eyeing him with concern.

“Captain? Sir, are you alright?” Terror's captive cook asked quietly.

Francis couldn't answer as his throat felt swollen with an overwhelming lump of emotion. His blue eyes burned with scorching hot tears that quickly spilled down his cheeks that stung the open cuts upon his face.

Jopson would die of exposure if no one found him, if no one went back for him... if he couldn't find a way to get out of this camp and help him.

Deep in his heart he knew he wouldn't make it in time and his heart hurt so much, the sweet lad didn't deserve to die so horribly.

He had never felt more of a failure than he did now.


End file.
